


ricochet

by writingcreature



Series: Warzone/Paradise Chronicles [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Banter, Bromance to Romance, Crime, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-08-19 18:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8220731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingcreature/pseuds/writingcreature
Summary: When Danny decided to leave Jersey behind and start all over in Hawaii as a surf instructor, he's only running away from the past. It keeps haunting him for more than a year, now. By meeting his neighbor, he finds out that he and Steve McGarrett have much more in common than just their tastes for cars and coffee. When someone is settling a score, and you're screwed big time it could be helpful to know someone like Steve. Chapter 6 is up now:The Queen's emergency room was comparable to a bee hive, buzzing with activity. They wheeled Danny away from him, and when the huge double doors closed in front of him, the rush of adrenaline subsided. Steve felt his legs give way and he lunged for one of the many chairs in the waiting area. He recalled the lethal shot over and over again, asking himself if he could've handled the situation differently. The answer was always the same: NO.





	1. Chapter 1

This was by far the worst nightmare he'd ever had. It's been fifteen months, six days, and forty-five minutes. Covered in sweat, he lay in bed and watched the alarm clock's green digits without seeing them. The nightmare was still lingering, gripping and more real than he could tell. Without wanting it, he was still in it, and the more he tried to escape the more he got caught. He hated those dreams where he desperately tried to run away but only managed to move in slow mo.  
  
He sat up, run a hand over his beard and then both hands through his greasy hair. He sniffed at his tee. Yikes. He smelled like a skunk. He was more than overdue for a shower. He navigated his way through the numerous cardboard boxes that were scattered all over the place. He tried to remember when he'd arrived in his new home. It must've been two or three days ago. Again, he'd lost track of time, the current time. Not the time when his life together with his heart had been ripped into pieces. It's been fifteen months, six days and fifty minutes. After he had taken a piss, he dropped the shirt on the ground and headed for a shower. His forehead rested on the tiles while the hot spray drummed his back and neck. With closed eyes, he fumbled for the shower gel on a shelf to his right. He lathered himself from head to toe properly, rinsed and lathered again. He rinsed the soap from his matte of blond chest hair, watched the rivulets of water vanishing down the drain. Then he just stood under the showerhead and let the water massage the tension out of his muscles, or at least, he tried to.  
  
After another ten minutes, he emerged from the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. The look in the mirror wasn't promising. The shower hadn't helped to get rid of the dark shadows under his eyes; the damp hair was still too long. What he could do was to trim his beard. He still wasn't in the mood to shave.  
  
It was 6:00 am in the morning when he went outside, carrying a mug of steaming hot coffee in his hand, black, no sugar. He carefully sipped at the hot liquid and took a look over to his neighbor. The guy was doing his usual workout consisting of sit-ups, pushups, running, and swimming. Yes, he envied the discipline. The man's movements were precise. The early morning sun enhanced the play of his muscles, and the sweat on his body glistened. He swallowed and forced his eyes to look into another direction. Unfortunately, his gaze wandered back to the good-looking hunk.  
  
"Aloha, neighbor. How's it going?"  
  
The voice of the dark-haired guy startled him. He cursed as he spilled hot coffee over his hand.  
  
"Aloha. Nice routine, wished I would be that disciplined." Wow, he'd managed to utter an answer. Where did that come from?  
  
The guy got closer to the wooden fence and stretched out his hand, "Hi my name is Steve McGarrett. Welcome to Hawaii."  
  
They shook hands, "Hi I'm Danny Williams. Nice meeting you."  
  
Steve gave him a quick once over; he couldn't help switching into cop mode. It was in his nature. The guy was much shorter than him; he looked tired, no sad, wore a black tee, washed-out jeans and was barefoot.  
  
Steve hadn't noticed any kids or a wife since Danny's arrival though the guy was wearing a wedding band.  
  
The blond couldn't tell what had gotten into him when he invited his neighbor over for a cup of coffee. Steve agreed and promised to be there in a few. He just wanted to shower.  
  
Awesome, the living room was still a mess, like the rest of his house. In a hurry, he tried to clean up some of it, but it was like fighting against windmills. He just stumbled over a box of items when the doorbell rang and announced Steve.  
  
Danny cursed a blue streak but was all smiles when he opened the door.  
  
"Come in, please. I apologize for the chaos. I didn't have time to unpack my stuff." That was a flat out lie. He'd more than enough time, but he didn't want to. He'd preferred to sit on the couch or lie in bed and wallow in self-pity.  
  
On their way into the kitchen, Steve took a look around. This place didn't look like a home it was more comparable to a storage unit. There were no personal belongings, no hint that the man had a family. The place looked as sad and lonely as its inhabitant.  
  
"Have a seat," Danny pointed at the three kitchen stools. "You like your coffee how?"  
  
"Black, no sugar," Steve answered promptly.  
  
"Yeah, my kind of guy," Danny said and put the mug in front of Steve.  
  
"Thanks." He answered with a big fat grin.  
  
Danny became aware of what he just said, and that Steve could probably think …  
  
"I mean the coffee. You're my kind of guy because of the coffee and not … ugh, that's odd, sorry."  
  
The guy liked to talk with his hands and feet. Steve had to bite back the laughter when his neighbor's face reddened with embarrassment.  
  
He patted his shoulder, "Never mind. I got you. Don't worry. Given your accent, you must be somewhere from …"  
  
"Jersey, I'm from Jersey," Danny hurried to say, glad that Steve had changed the subject.  
  
"Then you're pretty far from home."  
  
"Yeah, definitely," nervously he ran his fingers through his blond hair.  
  
"Hey, if you want I can lend you a helping hand. I'm off today and tomorrow." Steve offered.  
  
Danny looked at him like he'd called him out on a date.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean …"  
  
"No, no, no. It's okay. It's just … I haven't talked to a human being in ages, and nobody offered me help … I guess, I'm not used to having a proper conversation." Danny stammered.  
  
Steve's gut instincts told him that the man must've been through a lot, and it looked like he still suffered some trauma. But he didn't want to turn this conversation into an interrogation which would have shied his neighbor away from him, for sure. He hoped that the guy would open up when they spend some time together.  
  
"I don't want to spoil your plans for the weekend," Danny said and stirred Steve from his thoughts.  
  
"Oh, don't worry. You don't. Usually, I would've slid under my car and started pulling suspension and transmission parts. I love to be under the car, wrenching hard and getting greasy. It helps me get my mind off the job."  
  
Danny's eyes started to glow, "Looks like we have something in common."  
  
"How come?"  
  
"I show you." Danny motioned for Steve to follow him.  
  
They ended up in the garage which looked similar to Steve's but wasn't fully equipped, yet. The blond pulled the tarp back. Underneath was a black '67 Chevy Impala. The car looked like it just rolled off the production line.  
  
"Wow, stunning, what a beauty." Steve ran his fingers over the hood, whistling appreciatively.  
  
"It took me more than ten months to finish it. I was lucky she was in quite a good shape, except for the engine parts and some rusty spots."  
  
The car had helped Danny not to lose it, to focus, not to think about what had happened, at least most of the time. Since he finished the work on his car a few weeks ago, all he felt was emptiness. There was no daily routine for him. Sometimes, he hated himself for quitting his job.  
  
His lips curved into a smile as he watched Steve, who behaved like a kid in the candy store.  
  
"What's over in your garage?" Danny wanted to know.  
  
"1974 Mercury Marquis. The old girl was in pretty sad condition. That salt-filled Hawaiian air is easy on the skin but rusty murder on old Detroit iron like hers. And I'm not as skilled as you are. Guess, I could use some advice."  
  
Danny grinned from ear to ear. "Sure, no problem." He pulled the tarp over the Chevy, and they went back into the house. Danny took the toolbox from the workbench, then hesitated.  
  
He felt guilty because this was the first day in ages, he felt happy and alive. While some of his friends treated him as carefully as a porcelain doll, Rachel's family treated him like an enemy. They had glared daggers at him whenever he was around. Once, he went over to her parents and tried to talk to them, tried to explain the unexplainable. Rachel's father threw him out of the house within ten minutes. They never saw each other again, since.  
  
Wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he followed Steve, who stood in the middle of the living room, his arms akimbo.  
  
"Where do you want me to start?" He said, as he heard Danny's footsteps approaching.  
  
As he got no answer, he turned around and found the blond guy standing there with red-rimmed eyes and a big toolbox in his hand.  
  
"You're okay?" Steve asked worriedly.  
  
Danny nodded curtly, his mouth hardening into a flat line.  
  
"I don't want to bother you, but you don't look okay to me," Steve stated the obvious.  
  
Danny vanished into the kitchen, "You want some beer?" Steve heard him shouting.  
  
"Yes, thanks." He took a few steps toward the kitchen and almost bumped into Danny.  
  
"Here you are. I'm fine. I promise." He put the Longboard into Steve's hand. They clunk bottles.  
  
Danny put his one on the coffee table. Again, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm fixing the shelves over there. If you like, you can start unpacking the cardboard boxes and put the stuff on the drawer or next to it."  
  
"Consider it done," Steve replied and went to work. The first box he opened was full of Christmas stuff.  
  
"I put that one in the garage, later. There must also be a box with games, toys, Halloween stuff, and some with tons of books. I think I have to make a garage sale."  
  
"You're reading?" Steve sounded a bit surprised.  
  
"No, I don't. My wife did."  
  
Okay, that was the first time Danny mentioned a wife. Steve's cop instincts wanted to get into it further, but his gut instincts told him to stop.  
  
Danny took care of the shelves, fixed the doors of a cupboard in the anteroom and put the boxes away that went on the garage sale.  
  
While unpacking the stuff Steve came across two boxes with names on it: Charlie, Gracie. He opened them and found pictures and other stuff that belonged to a teenage girl. In Charlie's box were pictures and stuff that belonged to a much younger child. Hastily he closed the boxes. He felt like he invaded Danny's life a bit too much.  
  
The content of the next box sent cold shivers to his spine: a gun and bloody clothes. Horrified, he staggered backward, spun around, and dashed out of the room and into the hallway yelling Danny's name.  
  
Immediately, Danny showed up on the doorstep confused about Steve's erratic behavior and all the shouting.  
  
"What's the matter, Steve? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
When he did a step forward, Steve yelled, "STOP! Stop right there, Danny. And now tell me who the fuck you are."  
  
The blond furrowed his brows and wiped his hand with a rag, "I told you already. My name is Danny Williams. I am from Jersey. What has gotten into you?"  
  
Steve had taken a deep breath before he kept on speaking, "I just found a gun in one of the boxes and bloody clothes. I hope you have a good explanation for it. Otherwise, you'll be neck-deep in trouble, and I've to arrest you."  
  
Danny's eyes widened in disbelief, "You're a cop?"  
  
"I'm Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett; I'm the head of the Hawaii-Five-0 task force. What's your explanation?"  
  
Danny did one step further, Steve one step back, warning him, "Stay put!"  
  
"Okay, okay," Danny said. "I can explain it to you. Let's just have a beer while talking."  
  
Alarm bells shrilled in Steve's head. But his gut instincts took over; he sat down next to Danny looking at him expectantly.  
  
The blond took a swig from the bottle before he rose to speak.  
  
"I used to be a detective back in the days in Jersey." He cleared his throat, got up, rummaged around in a box and came up with a framed picture of him wearing a uniform. Then he rejoined Steve on the couch, the picture still in his hand."  
  
Steve arched a brow. "What do you mean you used to be a cop? Aren't you no longer with the police? What happened?"  
  
"Life happened, or better the opposite." Dark shadows crossed Danny's features as he took another swig and prepared himself to go back in time, fifteen months, six days, and ...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i391b1swfv)   
> 

"I don't know about you, but I was so focused on my job that I sacrificed a lot of time away from my family to be undercover," Danny said, sounding embittered. "I was so deep undercover that it had been impossible for Rachel to call me. It was my boss who told me that my son was in need of a bone marrow transplant and that the hospital made some cross checking, and I came up as the best possible donor. My team and I had worked for months to make the case airtight, and they promised me they wouldn't need me any longer on the task force. I was ready to resurface. That's how it felt for me because I had come to a point where I thought I would be drowning. I almost lost my soul during this mission." He swallowed, and Steve nodded in silence.

"Five days later, I called Rachel to make an appointment with the doctor; all my calls went to voice mail. My gut instinct told me something was wrong. And then I got the call that turned my life upside down within the blink of an eye. There had been an armed robbery in a supermarket. A supermarket I had known too well because it was practically around the corner from where we lived. Immediately, I knew things had gone south."

Danny took another big gulp from the bottle. He stared into nothingness when he kept on speaking.

"A squad car picked me up at the airport and drove me to the scene which had been processed, already. The glass doors slid open, and two uniforms escorted me to the back of the supermarket. We turned around a corner. My gaze dropped to the floor and … blood, there was so much blood. And then there was Gracie, my daughter. The bastard had slit her throat from ear to ear. I dropped to my knees in the middle of a pool of coagulating blood. The cut was deep; she was almost decapitated. My daughter's face looked like it was made of wax. I remember. I screamed at the top of my lungs. The two uniforms helped me to my feet. We followed Gracie's bloody footsteps and then there was Charlie."

Danny emptied the bottle. His body was trembling; he desperately tried not to cry. Steve put a hand on his neighbor's shoulder. "It is okay, Danny. You don't need to tell me the whole story …"

Their eyes locked. The blonde's Adam's apple jumped up and down. "I have to. I want you to know everything." Danny's voice succumbed to a whisper. He took a deep breath as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Gracie's bloody footprints led us to my son's body. His throat also slit. The metallic stench of blood mingled with the smell of alcohol. Shards of glass littered the floor together with blood and a shoe, Rachel's shoe. My wife must've pulled a hell of a fight before she went down. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, and her body was sprawled across the floor, lifeless. My legs gave way; I ended up on the floor next to her in a sitting position. The source of the blood was her forehead. Single-entry gunshot. I know I shouldn’t, but I used my hand to scoot her head off the floor to cradle it next to my chest. Her long dark hair splayed out over my arm. The dot on her forehead was black and blistered. A contact wound from a muzzle's kiss."

Minutes of silence ticked by, Danny wiped the tears with the back of his hand away. Steve was searching for the right words. Were there any right words? What should he say to a man whose family had been slaughtered? Yes, his father had been killed by a terrorist, but this wasn't the right place or time to tell Danny about it.

Danny wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and dropped his gaze.

"Sorry, I didn't want to bother you with my story," he said, his voice barely audible.

Steve squeezed Danny's shoulder, "I'm sorry. I had no idea what you went through, and I feel like a dick because I made you talk about it. Please …"

Danny shook his head and took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, "Don't worry, Steve. I'm glad you've asked. It's the first time I've talked to a stranger about it; to someone who's not involved in all this bullshit." He coughed.

"I hope they caught the asshole," Steve muttered.

"They caught a guy. I was told the case is closed, but I think they either made a huge mistake or they didn't tell me the truth."

Steve frowned upon Danny's answer, "What do you mean?"

"You can imagine that I wanted to jump on the bandwagon and of course, they locked me out, completely. So I started to investigate on my own. My partner ratted me out, and I got suspended."

"Asshole." Steve spat out.

"I kept on digging, thought I'd found some inconsistencies. Before I could pinpoint it, I was fired for insubordination. My life hit a new low. Within weeks, I'd lost my family and my job. I started drinking, heavily. Two months later, I was living on the street because I couldn't pay the loan, and you know what? I didn't care. I didn't give a fuck if there was a tomorrow." Danny jerked his head toward the cardboard boxes, "This is my whole life, a bunch of boxes filled with some stuff and tons of bad memories." He grimaced. His jaw was working.

Silence.

Danny fetched another beer for him, and Steve from the fridge, dropped on the couch and then kept on talking.

"You wanted to know if they had caught the wacko." Danny rolled the bottle between his palms back and forth. He huffed out a laugh, "He was the perfect fall guy. He was homeless, had a rap sheet, and they had an eyewitness, all of a sudden. And when they found the shoe with his blood and fingerprints, they had a golden opportunity to blame him and take the heat off of whomever. And as if that wasn't enough, Lee Harvey Burnstein hung himself in his cell, a few weeks later."

He took a sideways glance at Steve, "Everything went poof," Danny emphasized his words with his hands.

Steve stared daggers at the wall and wiped his mouth with his hand, "So, you never got closure. I mean, the Lee Harvey …," Steve furrowed his brows, "Wow, even the name sounds fake." He shook himself like a wet dog. "You never got closure, and you didn't start with your investigations all over, again?"

Danny put the bottle on the coffee table, "You gotta be kidding. At that time, I didn't even know my name. Most of it is a blur. I wasn't myself, and if Jeremy Larkin hadn't picked me up from under a bridge one December morning, I would've turned in the world's biggest popsicle." His voice and body language oozed bitterness. Danny was desperately trying to keep his emotions in check.

"You know Jer? No way." Steve hollered out, making his neighbor wince.

Now it was Danny's turn to frown, "Yeah, what's so …"

"Jer and I were in Afghanistan." Steve's happiness was gone, "I thought he was dead. He signed for another round and last thing I heard he drove over a land mine, and his jeep blew up."

"That's true. Jeremy lost his left hand and foot," Danny filled him in, "And he's deaf in his left ear but still alive. However, all this didn't prevent him from working in a shelter for vets and ex-cops. That guy can be stubborn as a mule and sometimes be a real pain in the ass."

Steve smirked, "Sounds a lot like me. I'm glad to hear he's still alive."

Without warning, Danny started to laugh. All the tension was gone from one second to another. Steve couldn't help and followed suit.

They were laughing so hard that their eyes were watering.

"Can you tell me why you are laughing?" Steve gasped between laughs.

"I don't know," Danny gasped, "It's just funny."

"What?" Steve wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Everything, I came all the way from New Jersey, to make a new start just to run into a guy who's somehow related to my past."

Their laughter died down.

Steve cleared his throat, "Maybe it was supposed to be that way."

"Eh?"

"It was probably fate or whatever you want to name it."

Again, their eyes locked. The feelings both experienced were intense and ran way too deep for a first meeting.

"It's not like we were dating," Danny thought and shook his head to get rid of the confusion that threatened to take over his heart and mind.

"Danny, you need closure. Let me help you." Steve said.

"What? Wait a moment. This is way out of your jurisdiction, Steve. Not even close to anything."

Steve shrugged, "Hawaii Five-0 is different. We have other possibilities, other resources. The members of my team have a variety of different backgrounds and experience. I swear we'll be discreet."

"Now it's WE, wow. Steve, thanks for the offer but …"

"But? Danny, after what you've told me, we're on the same page. Something's wrong, terribly wrong. In Jersey, they'd slammed the door in your face. In Hawaii, you'll be part of my Ohana, my family. We care about each other. Ask my team."

Danny stood. He fidgeted with his hands, looked around the room as if the walls could listen before he took a deep breath. He turned his attention back to Steve.

"Listen, I appreciate your offer. I really do. Nevertheless, I don't know if I should take it. Of course, you're right; I need closure but what if it turns out that the guy, who'd hung himself was the killer? What if I am wrong? What if this wasn't more than a robbery gone wrong?"

"What if you're right and the killer of your wife and your kids is still out there?" Steve stated dryly.

Danny was desperate, confused. He struggled with himself for a few minutes.

"Do me a favor," he finally said, "Let me sleep over it, okay? It's been a helluva day, physically and mentally. I had no idea …"

Steve lifted his hand, "Danny. You don't owe me an explanation. Believe me; I know exactly how you feel. My father was killed by a terrorist while I was on the phone with him. The shot is still ringing in my ears. In my case, the guy got what he deserved. Take all the time you need. I just want you to know that I'm there for you. Whenever you need someone to talk, you know where you find me."

Before Steve left, they hugged each other. The hug was awkward, but it felt good for both. Danny stared at the closed door long after Steve left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the different angle, drop me a line. Thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i391b1swfv)   
> 

Back in his living room, Steve fired up his laptop. No matter how Danny's decision would turn out, he was determined to help his new neighbor. There couldn't be that many shelters in New Jersey. Steve was lucky. With his third call, he cracked the jackpot and got Jeremy's number.

Steve's finger hovered over the phone's display. He felt somewhat guilty because he considered his former comrade dead and gone. It felt a bit awkward to call him and ask him about a guy he just met. "Hi, this is Steve McGarrett. I thought you were dead. But I have a new neighbor, and he told me that I was wrong." He gave a loud sigh and dialed Jeremy's number. 

The call went straight to voicemail. 

"Hi Jer, it's been a while. This is Steve McGarrett, could you please call me. I need info about a friend of ours. Thanks." 

Thoughtfully, he scratched his five o'clock shadow. His weekend had taken a turn for the worse. Steve cursed himself for turning a chit-chat into an interrogation. Fuck. However, the bloody clothes together with the weapon he'd found in the box had rattled his cage. The ringing of his cell phone made him jump. 

"McGarrett." 

"What stone did you crawl out from? It's been ages since we last talked. Good to hear your voice, man." 

A heavy load fell from Steve's heart; Jeremy didn't sound as embittered as he'd expected. 

"Hi, Jer. Thanks for calling me back. How are you? How's the weather in Jersey?" 

"Not as warm as in Hawaii. Are you still with the Navy?" 

"Nope, I'm leading a task force, Hawaii Five-0. Maybe you've heard about it." 

"Yeah, of course. Awesome. So who is this friend of ours you're talking about?" 

"Danny, Danny Williams. He's my next-door neighbor. I've helped him move in and came across a box with bloody clothes and a gun. Jer, I behaved like a dick, went into full cop mode. I had no idea what's behind..." 

"Don't tell me. The first time Danny told me about it, I thought he was still high on alcohol and drugs and made up that story. It sounded so bizarre. But I changed my mind about Danno pretty fast." 

"Danno?" Steve asked. 

"That's how his daughter called him when she was little. I've seen and experienced a lot of shit since my return from Afghanistan, believe me. But this guy went through the living hell." Jeremy huffed out a breath. 

"Speaking of which..." Steve hesitated, "Danny told me about what happened to you. Man, I'm sorry. And I wished, I could've been there for you. I swear. I would've moved heaven and earth..." 

"Steve, it's okay." Jeremy cut him short. "It's not your fault, and it's not my fault. Shit happens. You should know it better than anybody else. I wasn't supposed to do another round in Afghanistan, but I did. Now I have to deal with the consequences." He sounded a little embittered. 

"Yeah, like poor Danny has to deal with the consequences of his family's murder," Steve murmured. 

"If you asked me, Danny had been played. Something's terribly wrong with this case," Jeremy stated dryly. 

"What makes you think that way?" asked Steve. 

"His precinct consists of a bunch of corrupt assholes. You should've seen how they treated him, like human garbage. His former colleagues came to the shelter and ransacked the whole place. They said they were tipped off that Danny was dealing with drugs. Bullshit." 

"What? The more I hear about it, the more it sounds like a setup. Do you know anything about the guy who was imprisoned for the murderers?" Bile rose in Steve's throat. 

Jeremy barked out a laugh. "You're serious? Next to Danny, he was the second victim in the aftermath of this charade. I wished I could've helped him more." 

"I guess you did the best you could do for him," Steve said, "I'm glad you kept him from doing something stupid. From what Danny told me you saved him at the very last moment." 

"He was half dead when I've found him under the bridge that day. I remember it as if it just happened. Dude, I've been to dark places, but I've never been at a place this dark. Do you think you and your task force could help him to find some answers? The nightmares are still haunting him. I wasn't even sure about him moving to Hawaii because it wouldn't solve his problems. How could I know, he'd run into you? Can you do me a favor, Steve?"

"Anything."

"Take care of Danny. He might think he's a tough cookie. But the truth is, he's more fragile than he knows, and I have the feeling there's a storm on the rise." 

Steve wasn't sure what he should think of Jeremy's cryptic words, so he asked him, "What do you mean? Did something happen?" 

"Two nights ago, his former sleeping place in the shelter was set on fire. And I've received an email, not very friendly. I wanted to keep it to myself to protect Danny from further harm. But now I can forward it to you." 

"Okay Jeremy, I text you the contact address. Take care of you. Whenever you need something, no matter what, give me a call, buddy." 

"Yes, sir! I'll keep in touch, and you let me know what's going on with Danny and his surfboard lessons. Bye." 

The line went dead. About ten minutes later, Steve received the email in question. It was addressed to the shelter. 

"Since when do you guys give shelter to a murderer? Danny Williams is not a victim, nor is his family. He got what he deserved. Unfortunately, he's still alive. Let me tell you this, no matter how hard he tries; he won't escape justice!" 

There was no signature. Hopefully, Kono could track down the email address. So this was about revenge. What could Danny have done to piss someone off that much? What could someone do that justified the killing of his family? Steve shook his head. He was more convinced than ever Danny needed his help, and he would tell him about the latest developments. This wasn't the time to treat him with kid gloves. 

+++++ 

Danny stood on the porch. Though it was warm, he was freezing. He took another long drag on his cigarette, allowing the smoke to lazily exit his nose and mouth. In the back of his mind, he heard Rachel talking to him about quitting smoking, and for some time he really had. It was the only bad habit he'd kept after his struggle. Of course, he shouldn't have touched the bottle of beer either. Drinking had almost killed him. 

Almost; he was still alive and kicking, more or less. Tomorrow he would start his new life as a surf coach at Malia's surf school. He had signed the contract a few weeks ago, after he'd decided what he was going to do to make a living. Private eye had been one of his options, but he was sick and tired of poking around in other people's lives when he hadn't come to terms with his own yet. 

Talking to Steve had opened old wounds. In fact, they weren't old because they'd hardly healed. Danny had no clue why he opened up to a man he barely knew. It felt like there was an invisible bond between them, like they'd known each other for ages. Last time he'd felt that way had been with Rachel. He'd always considered her his soulmate. They had gone through all the ups and downs of marriage, like any other couple. 

He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him, desperately fighting the pain that was about to suffocate him. His headache had turned into a full-blown migraine. He went into the bathroom, popped two Advil, went back into the living room, and crashed on the couch. 

Danny woke up when somebody knocked on his door. It took him some time to remember where he was; he had no clue how long he'd been out. His mouth felt dry, but the headache was gone. 

Drowsily, he went to the door and found himself opposite a woman in her early twenties. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir," she said, embarrassed. "My name is Alani Shaw. Are you Detective Williams?" 

Danny froze in place. He'd expected Steve when he'd opened the door, not this young woman who addressed him by a title he hadn't heard in ages. 

"No. I mean yes. I mean, I'm no longer a detective. What can I do for you?" 

She took a small recorder from her handbag. "I'm here to interview you about the murder of your family. Is it true that you were a suspect?" 

"What the fuck you think you're doing?" he yelled at her. "Who gave you my address?" 

"I'm a blogger. I can do research, and I've got my sources. My blog's name is Unsolved Crime Mysteries. So tell me …" 

"I won't tell you shit. Get the fuck off my property, or I call the police, and you can blog about a night in a holding cell." He banged the door shut in front of her face. 

"If you aren't talking to me, then you can read my story online, tomorrow evening. I will rely on what I already know," Shaw yelled through the closed door, "and I promise, you're not going to be pleased about it. All I wanted was to hear your side of the story." 

Danny jerked the door open and yelled, "What the hell is wrong with you? There is no story. Fuck off." 

It seemed Steve appeared from out of nowhere behind the girl. 

He tapped her on the shoulder. Startled, she turned around and faced the badge he was flashing. 

"Five-0. Miss, I asked you to leave, now. Otherwise, I've to take you into custody, and you've to spend the rest of the weekend at HPD's precinct. Which is no fun, I guarantee you that." 

Steve grabbed her upper arm and dragged her away from Danny. Still protesting, she was gone in a matter of minutes. 

Danny stood in the doorframe with a pale face, shaking like a leaf. 

"Danny, come on buddy, let's get inside," Steve said after he'd returned to his friend and motioned him in. 

Danny sat down on the couch while Steve got him a glass of water from the kitchen. 

"Do you know this girl?" Steve asked. 

Danny took a huge gulp, then shook his head. "Thank you for saving my sorry ass. She called me Detective Williams and wanted to know my side of the story. She said she was running a crime blog and was going to write about the murder. She was babbling about research and sources, and that I'd been a suspect …" His voice trailed off. His eyes were brimming with tears.

Steve sat down next to his friend. "I … I don't know how to tell you this, but I've talked to Jeremy. It looks like someone is stirring up things." 

Danny's body went rigid, "What? Why did you call Jeremy? Do you think I can't handle my life?" 

"I know you didn't ask for my help or any help. I just couldn't sit around twiddling my thumbs, waiting for your answer. So I made that call. My gut instinct proved me right." 

The blond guy jumped to his feet. "Since when is everybody else ruling my life, making decisions for me? I don't need you to babysit me. I can take care of my own." 

"Yeah. I saw it only minutes ago. You couldn't even get rid of this blogger chick," Steve snapped. "I wonder if you also got mysterious emails and decided not to talk about it." 

Danny glared at him. "I didn't get any emails in the past few months. I got some shortly after the murders. But it stopped. Anything else you want to know?" 

"Who in the world would be pissed on you enough to kill your wife and kids?" 

"Nobody that I know of," Danny muttered and sat back down on the couch. "Don't you think I haven't asked myself the same question over and over again?"


	4. Beware Of The Naked Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i391b1swfv)   
> 

Danny lay in bed wide awake. He had his hand clasped behind his head and stared holes into the ceiling. Tomorrow was his first day at his new job. Last time he'd taken a glimpse at the alarm clock, the green digits showed 2:37 am. Shouldn't he be long asleep? For everyone else sleep meant the ability to rest and refill one's batteries. For Danny sleep meant endless nightmares, angst, and being drenched in sweat when he woke up. It happened almost every single night since his wife and kids had been murdered. A little earlier, he was tempted to take a sleeping pill but decided against it. He couldn't risk oversleeping. This job was the straw he was clinging to and what kept him going when he felt he had nothing left. It could be a start to a new life. He hoped to find some peace and freedom on this island and was determined to leave his misery behind. Danny was so sick and tired of all the pain that was eating him up on the inside just like cancer. However, if it was only cancer then there could be a cure for it, he thought embittered. Unfortunately, there wasn't any cure for a messed up soul like his.

Everything was going nice and smooth and even his cop neighbor seemed to be someone he could hang out with once in a while but then this blogger bitch had shown up. She threw accusations at him like a ball machine at full force. He was glad that Steve was able to remove this chick from the property by using verbal threats and some physical force. Thinking about his whole situation Danny came to the conclusion that he would never find peace at least not until he was buried six feet under together with his family. It should have been him instead of them. He'd played this scenario over and over until he got a migraine and it didn't change a damn thing. His family stayed dead while he had to deal with the aftermath.

The sound of breaking glass followed by a thud and the alarm that went off made him jump out of bed in no time. Danny took the baseball bat that he had put next to the nightstand and hurried into the living room where the noise had come from. He turned on the light when he rushed past the switch, then took the bat into both hands and stopped short. A brick covered in something that could be paper or cloth was lying in the middle of the room. He went for the alarm to turn the annoying sound off as his cell phone went off. It was the security company checking in on him. He told them what just happened but denied their offer to send someone over. He'd hardly ended the call when someone was pounding on his entrance door.

"Danny, open the door it's me," he heard the muffled voice of his neighbor through the thick wood. "Open up, or I swear …"

Danny tore the door open. "… I'm kicking it in." Steve ended the sentence but was aghast when Danny opened the door. He was butt naked and had a baseball bat ready in his hand. As Steve jerked his head upwards so his eyes would meet Danny's eyes instead of his privates, the blond guy became aware of what was going on.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry, man. Please come in; I get me some…"

Steve made a gesture like he was shooing away some flies, "Whatever, go get some pants."

While Danny rushed into the sleeping room with a face as red as a beet, Steve looked at the mess. The window was shattered into pieces and glass littered the floor and parts of the carpet. The brick in front of him was covered with a cloth. He didn't want to touch it with his bare hands so not to destroy the evidence. Danny returned wearing a ragged gray tee and jeans that were cut off at the knees.

"Do you have something to pick up the brick? I don't want to leave my prints on it" Steve said, well aware of the horror that was written all over his neighbor's face. He thought it was best to get back to normal and figured he could ask his questions later.

Danny vanished again, just to rejoin him within a minute. "Here you are," as he handed Steve some latex gloves and put on the other pair.

"Wow, you're still in cop mode," Steve said as he picked up the brick.

Danny felt a little insecure, "Nah, not really. I used them when I was working on the car." He shifted from one foot to the other as Steve approached him und unwrapped the brick carefully.

"NEXT TIME IT WILL BE YOUR HEAD," Steve read out loud. "The handwriting is lousy," he muttered.

"This could have been written by anybody," Danny added.

Steve took his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. His finger hovered over the display, and he asked, "You don't mind if I call it in, do you?"

His neighbor gave him a desperate look, "Knock yourself out; I couldn't sleep, anyway. Why not stay up and watch the police doing their job?"

Danny scratched the back of his head, yawned heartily, and went into the kitchen while Steve was busy on the phone. A few minutes later an army of police cars filled Danny's driveway. There were even some cops with dogs that started to search the area immediately. Steve welcomed Duke with a firm handshake and led him into the living room.

"Thank God your neighbor was in bed and not hanging out here. This could have ended up ugly," Duke stated dryly, "I assume he didn't see anyone."

Steve shook his head, "It was too dark. I woke up because the alarm went off. I guess that could be the reason why whoever it was left in a hurry."

Duke nodded while he scanned the living room. A photo of Danny in uniform on one of the shelves caught his attention. He stepped closer to get a better look, pointing his finger at the photo he said, "I know this poor guy."

Steve frowned, "How, he just moved here?"

"Not from here, from the news and internal affairs. They didn't fair friendly with him, as usual, if one of us gets on their radar. You should know what I'm talking about, Steve." McGarrett nodded. At the same time, he was looking for Danny. Where the hell did he go? He apologized to Duke and went into the kitchen. There he found his neighbor sipping at a cup of coffee.

"Hey, my friend Duke wants to talk to you," he softly said.

Danny put the mug aside, "I brewed a pot of coffee. If you or your friends want some …"

He brushed past Steve, and the slight touch of their bodies sent a shiver down Steve's spine. He shook the strange feeling off, took one of the mugs that Danny had put on the counter, and filled it with some coffee.

Duke and Danny introduced each other.

The elder cop had a regretful look on his face when he said, "Welcome to Hawaii, sir. I'm sorry this has happened to you on your first night here. Usually, this neighborhood is quiet and peaceful." He put his hand on the blond man's shoulder. "I'm also sorry for your loss and the way you have been treated by your colleagues. It's a shame for the entire police force."

Danny felt a sting in his heart. These were the first words he had heard in a long time that were bare of all insults and full of sincere sorrow, except for the conversation he had had earlier with Steve.

He met Duke's gaze whose hand was still weighing heavy on his shoulder and fought the emotions that were threatening to overcome him, "Thank you, sir. That means a lot." His voice was hardly above a whisper and sounded a bit chocked. "You can call me Duke, son," the elder man offered. Danny nodded, "Thanks."

Duke went outside to check on the uniforms that searched the perimeter and to bark out some orders.

Steve found Danny still standing in the living room looking lost.

"How about you come over to my place? I have a cozy couch, and you can get some sleep," he said to the blond guy.

Why did he feel the urge to wrap his arms around the smaller guy's shoulders and comfort him? They had met some hours ago, though something seemed familiar about him. Danny probably reminded Steve of the day when he had lost his father. He was a fully trained Navy SEAL, and still, he hadn't been able to save his father's life just like Danny who was a fully trained Detective from Jersey whose family was killed while he was working a case. The awareness that both of them failed to protect their loved ones and the still lingering grief could be the invisible bond between them, Steve thought, or maybe there was something else he wasn't able to put his finger on yet.

"…do not want to cause you any more trouble. You already did enough for me." Danny's words jerked him back to reality.

Duke returned from outside with his head shaking, "I'm sorry. We have nothing so far, but we will keep looking. You should go with Steve to get some rest. We will be here for some time longer, and you need some rest. I'll keep an eye on everything."

Finally, Danny gave in, "Okay. Just let me get some of my stuff."

Duke and Steve watched him walk over to the Bedroom.

"Do you have any idea who could be behind this?" Duke asked.

"We did have a run in with a young woman in the afternoon. She said she owns a crime blog and that she wanted to interview Danny for it and when he refused she lashed out like a fury. I had to drag her from the premise."

"Do you remember the name of the blog?"

"It was 'Unsolved Crime Mysteries.' Do you think she could be behind all this?"

Duke inhaled sharply, "These kids with the internet and all the social media platforms. Bad news travels fast, my friend. Kono should see what she can find out and if you guys need back up give me a call. It looks like your new neighbor could become your next case."

The elder man said it without any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded anxious.

It felt surreal to watch the police activity that was currently going on in his house from one of his neighbor's windows.

"You okay?" Steve wanted to know. "The couch is all yours."

Danny turned around to face his host, "Again, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your … your efforts and the way you took me under your wing …"

Steve gave him a boyish grin, "It's been some time since I took someone under my wing. However, you're my new neighbor, and it seems you could use some help to spread your wings and start all over again. This island and its people are usually very friendly."

"So it must be my bad karma that fucks things up and that made me public enemy number one," Danny interrupted him, "Seems like I made a new record for pissing everyone off."

Steve shook his head, "Nonsense. It's not your fault that someone is targeting you. Due to my job, I know many people who suffer harassment because someone else isn't okay with their lifestyle, or the new partner, or their new job…"

"Wow, so becoming a surf instructor is life threatening? I had no idea that there was such a heavy competition going on," Danny quipped.

"I'm happy that you haven’t lost your sense of humor completely."

Danny gave him a crooked smile, "there's something called gallows humor. When my whole life is not about to turn into a crime scene, I can be my usual self, and I have energy, spontaneity, sophistication, a dry sense of humor, and the ability to laugh at myself. I hope you'll see that side of me one day."

Their eyes locked and Danny felt a bit ashamed. He was talking to Steve like he wanted to convince him that the two of them should go on a date. Apparently, McGarrett was amused instead of being offended.

Whatever was going on between the two of them; they were both in uncharted territory. Steve seemed to enjoy it and was also the one who won the staring contest.

"You should try and get some sleep," Steve said as he shoved the smaller guy over to the couch. Danny let it happen as he was way too tired and worn out to protest. The attack and all the other things all at once were taking a toll. He lay down, and Steve tucked him in fighting the temptation to give Danny a good night kiss on his cheek. The poor man had suffered enough for one day. He didn't want to scare the crap out of him with inappropriate behavior.

"Good night," Steve said, throwing a longing gaze at the blond mop of hair that stuck out from under the blanket.

"Good night," Danny murmured and drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i391b1swfv)   
> 

Danny woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He opened one eye and then the other. His brain was still foggy since he had slept like a log. It took him some time to figure out he was not at home but instead lying on Steve's couch. As on cue, the man showed himself into Danny's view with a steaming mug in his hand and fully dressed. He crouched down next to Danny, all smiles. "Wakey, wakey, sunshine! How are you doing?"  
  
Danny stifled a yawn, pulled the blanket back, and sat up straight. He scrunched up his nose and squinted at his host, "Dude, you're in an obscenely good mood. You know that? I bet you already finished your morning routine consisting of running, swimming, and endless pushups."  
  
"Wow, you're a helluva observer. Your cop instincts are still in full swing. Coffee?"  
  
Danny took the mug from Steve's hand and gave him a skeptical look, "You didn't put butter in it, did you?"  
  
"What? Why in the world … no, of course not. How come you know …?" Steve was baffled.

  
"Back in the days in Jersey, I had a colleague… You remind me of him. He did that a lot. He told me it was boosting his energy and enhancing his …"  
  
"Brain function," Steve finished the sentence for him.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Danny took a careful sip. The aroma alone helped clear the cobwebs from his head, and the caffeine kicked in minutes later. Only then did he remember his new job. "Fuck, what time is it? I'm running late." He jumped to his feet and spilled some coffee over his hand, "Fuck, fuck, clusterfuck!" he cursed.  
  
Steve got up as well. He put his hand on his guest's shoulder, "Calm down, Danno. I called Leilani. Bad news travels fast. She already knew what went down last night at your house. She sent her best wishes and said you should take all the time you need."  
  
The whole time Steve was speaking, Danny looked at him like he'd seen a ghost.  
  
"Danny, are you okay?"  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Did I do something wrong? Should I not have…"  
  
Danny slowly shook his head, "No, no. It's okay. It's just what you called me. I haven't heard that name in a while. Grace used to call me that when she was little. I didn't expect to hear it ever again …"  
  
Steve swallowed, what had gotten into him? The nickname had slipped from his lips easily, maybe too easy because he wasn't thinking about the consequences.  
  
"I'm sorry, Danny. I'm so sorry." He sat down on the couch next to him.  
  
The blond guy stared into nothingness. His hands shook so hard he had to put the mug on the coffee table.  
  
Steve wasn't sure what to do. Putting an arm around Danny's shoulders seemed inappropriate. On the other hand, it was his fault his neighbor was this close to a breakdown.  
  
"Dan …" He cleared his throat. "Is there anything I can do? Besides turning your life upside down and behaving like an idiot?"  
  
Danny drove his fingers through his hair. It was obvious how hard he was trying not to lose it in front of a stranger. That's how Steve felt at this moment, like a stranger.  
  
"I think I'd better go," Danny mumbled.  
  
Steve closed his eyes and cursed himself for being so insensitive. He felt paralyzed. All he could do was watch Danny leave. The slamming of the door hit him like a whiplash.  
  
Danny walked all the way over to his house in a trance-like state. "Danno" echoed in his head, forever. Of course, he knew Steve hadn't said it on purpose.  
  
The man had done so much for him in the past few hours, even called Leilani to explain what had happened the night before while he'd been out on the couch.  
  
He was disturbed because he couldn't remember when he'd slept that deep and that long. If he didn't know it better, he would think that Steve had spiked his drink.  
  
He opened the door and went over to the living room. Someone had put a wooden board over the shattered window, and the mess had been cleaned up as well. Was Steve behind that? Who else? He doubted that the Hawaiian police would be that polite.  
  
"Danno?" Gracie's voice hit him like a sledgehammer.  
  
He turned around, but he was all alone. Awesome! The voices were back. Steve had no clue what he had unleashed with this one word. How could he?  
  
"Get a fucking grip on it," Danny said to himself. He had to focus on something else and decided to take a visit to Leilani's surf shop. He wasn't sure he could work after all that had happened, but he could at least say "hello" to her and thank her for being so considerate.  
  
However, first, he needed a shower.  
  
+++++  
  
"Danny, what are you doing here?" Leilani welcomed him with a big smile and a warm embrace. "Why aren't you at home? I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" She held him at arm's length and gave him a quick once over.  
  
He returned the smile and nodded, "Thank you Leilani. I'm fine."  
  
"You're sure? You look a bit tired or are you sad?"  
  
"Note to self: Leilani can read me like a book," Danny thought.  
  
"It's nothing," he said a bit too fast.  
  
"Okay, but you're not working today. Get yourself something to eat. Drinks are on me," she finally said before she went off to talk with a customer.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Danny replied and winked at her.  
  
He walked over to a shrimp truck he'd discovered during his last visit. The owner's name was Kamekona, which wasn't rocket science due to the merchandise that was plastered all over the place. Danny went for the spicy shrimp and a salad.  
  
When he was about to pay, Kamekona denied the money. "Keep it. I heard you were not welcomed to the island so nicely yesterday. I apologize. Usually, us Islanders are very friendly, but like everywhere else we have the bad apples of the group. If you need help with fixing your window, I can call my cousin. He will give you a special deal. Enjoy your meal, sir."  
  
The guy rendered Danny speechless. He felt like a douche when all he could muster was, "Thank you, I'll let you know." He sat down at one of the tables and started to eat. The shrimp was indeed spicy but tasted fantastic. He enjoyed the meal, and the beer while he looked out at his surroundings. The beach was buzzing with people of every age. The giggling of kids specifically caught his attention. They were twins, about Charlie's age.  
  
He felt a sting in his heart and dropped his gaze on the food. Fuck, why couldn't he get over it and go on with his life? Why couldn't he just let go? He finished his plate, emptied the bottle of beer, and went back to Leilani's. As he'd visited her in the past, he knew his way around.

Danny wasn't in a very talkative mood. He decided to check the surfboards in the backyard of the shop that needed some repair or proper preparation. He loved handy work. When Leilani found him working there in silence a few hours later, she smiled and shook her head. He had cleaned up the shack, and the surfboards were sorted by size and type. The tools were also back in their places along with the red toolbox that was all shiny.  
  
"Hey haole, are you planning on sleeping in the shack?"  
  
Danny jerked his head up in surprise, "What time is it?"  
  
"It is time to go home." She nodded admiringly, "You've turned this place into a gem, great job."  
  
Danny wiped his hand with a cloth. "Glad I could help. But I'm not done. The door needs a new lock, and the shelves could need some overhaul."  
  
Leilani sighed, "I know. As for today you've done enough. How about a drink or two?"  
  
Danny looked like a deer caught in the head light.  
  
"Oh, I'm not asking you out on a date. Just a drink with your boss," she felt obliged to say.  
  
He cleared his throat. His ears slightly reddened. The man was quite cute, Leilani thought, and she could kick herself for having inappropriate thoughts.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, but I have to turn your offer down. At any other time, it would be okay, and I'm looking forward to it. But tonight I think I would not be good company, sorry."  
  
"No problem, Danny." They told each other goodbye and went off in different directions.  
  
  
**One hour earlier**  
  
Alani watched the numbers on her blog like a hawk. They slowly picked up pace. She'd hoped for more attention as she had included some gross pictures from the crime scene of the Williams' family’s murder. She even gagged when she had seen them for the first time. Now, she looked at them emotionlessly.  
  
A comment appeared on her screen from a user who called himself @masterofthedark. "Thanks for sharing these. They are awesome. A real masterpiece."  
  
Another message popped up. The user called himself @bonecracker. "Such a lovely sight. The congealing blood, the fear in the dead eyes, stunning."  
  
Okay, this was getting creepier by the minute. Alani considered her a serious journalist. She started doubting if she'd done the right thing. On the other hand, the envelope with the five thousand bucks in it that lay next to her on the table told her differently. She got up and took one of the many menus she'd gathered over the years. Her tummy was growling, and so it was Chinese takeout she chose.  
  
It should be her last meal. When Alani was done eating, she checked the numbers or her latest blog entry again. They had skyrocketed. She had an email from the source that had been providing her with all the footage for her story. He or she wanted to meet her in person which was a first in their online relationship, to get her the other five thousand bucks which was part of their deal. Five thousand in advance and five thousand after putting the story online. Until now, they had only dealt via a drop-off.  
  
Alani's heart was beating like a jackhammer when she got behind the steering wheel and fired up the engine.  
  
**Around midnight at Danny's house**  
  
Danny was tossing and turning in his bed. The nightmares had returned. He woke for the tenth time, all drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf. Reluctantly, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom to fetch a sleeping pill from the mirrored cabinet. He took a long look at the orange bottle, asking himself if he wanted to go down that road. It had taken him a lot of effort to get off of all the medication. There had been nights when he had been popping more than one pill because his body had gotten used to the drug. Did he want to start it all over again? Last night, he'd slept like a log … on Steve's couch. Danny put the orange bottle back in place, turned the light off and went back to bed.  
  
He wasn't prepared for what came next, but he reacted on instinct when somebody grabbed him from behind and threw him onto the bed. Every muscle in his body screamed as he fought the intruder, and he somehow managed to get the guy off of his back so he could turn around and face him. The guy was all dressed in black and wore a ski mask. Before Danny lunged at him, the intruder pulled a gun from out of nowhere, pointed it in the blond man's direction and pulled the trigger. The muzzle exploded in front of Danny, but he was fast enough and managed to escape. The bullet went astray and hit the wall across the room.  
  
Danny was desperately looking for cover, but there was none. Hiding under the bed was not an option. And the intruder blocked the exit with his massive body. So what could Danny do? Offense is the best defense he decided. He jumped to his feet and went into full survival mode.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve woke with a start with his heart pounding in his chest and his face bathed in sweat. He listened to the deafening silence of the night. Had his mind played a trick on him? Was that a shot that he'd heard? Was it real or just part of the weird dream he just had? But then another shot ripped through the night, raw and close. Steve scrambled to his feet, fetched his gun from the nightstand and headed down the stairs in neck breaking speed. He was running on autopilot. All his senses came to live in the blink of an eye. He knew where the shots came from. It was Danny's house. With panther-like grace, he jumped over the fence and didn't hesitate to kick his neighbor's entrance door open.

"Danny?! Danny?!" he shouted at the top of his lungs while he held his weapon at the ready, searching the perimeter. Steve caught a movement in the corner of his eye. Slowly, he turned into the direction and froze in place. Two men were engaged in a heated fight, rolling on the ground. In the darkness, it was hard to tell who was who and who had the upper hand – so much grasping and scrabbling and cursing and kicking. Finally, the intruder got on top of Danny and Steve saw the glinting of a steel blade as the guy in front of him was wielding a knife, determined to drive it into Danny's chest. The third shot that rang out that night hit the intruder in the back of his head. He was dead before he collapsed on top of his target.

Steve turned the light on and then tore the limp body away from his neighbor kneeling down next to him. He was expecting the worse. Danny lay on the floor with his eyes closed. His tee was torn and covered with blood spatters.

Steve shook him gently, "Danny, Danny. It is me, Steve, are you okay?"

There was no response. The ex-navy-SEAL did a quick examination. There were some nasty cuts on Danny's forearms and his chest. Steve looked around and discovered Danny's cell phone on the nightstand. He called 911 even though sirens were already wailing from afar.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve experienced some kind of déjà-vu when he was talking to Duke to give him a statement.

The paramedics had worked on Danny, who was still unconscious, put him on a stretcher and rolled him past the two men. 

"Where are you taking him?" Steve wanted to know.

"To Queen's Medical Center," one of the paramedics replied.

Duke put his hand on his friend's shoulder, "You should go with him. Come down to the precinct later to finish your statement and get your gun back. From what I can tell, it was a clean shot, but we have to do it by the book. You know the drill."

Steve closed his eyes briefly and ran his shaky hand across his eyes and down over the stubble on his face. "I know, Duke, I know. Thank you for everything. Please keep me posted."

The cop patted Steve's shoulder in a fatherly gesture.

+++++

The Queen's emergency room was comparable to a bee hive, buzzing with activity. They wheeled Danny away from him, and when the huge double doors closed in front of him, the rush of adrenaline subsided. Steve felt his legs give way and he lunged for one of the many chairs in the waiting area. He recalled the lethal shot over and over again, asking himself if he could've handled the situation differently. The answer was always the same: NO.

He buried his face in his hands while his elbows propped up on his knees. He didn't see Lou and the new team member Keiko approach him. With Kono being deep undercover in the sex trafficking case and Chin leading his own task force in San Francisco, Steve’s team had experienced a bumpy ride over the past few months. It was Duke who had the idea to add Keiko to the team. She'd been working for the HPD and the FBI on several cases as a freelancer. She had ties to the gang unit, knew her way around on the street and also the World Wide Web. Her hacking skills were pretty nasty and helped to bring down an African warlord who was expanding his business into the Florida Keys.

The other new addition to the team was a guy that was once part of a black-ops team and later worked for SWAT under Lou's command. His name was Solomon Kane, and yes, he knew every joke that was ever made about his name and could get pretty pissed if you came around with one of them.

"McGarrett?"

Steve startled when Lou's dark voice said his name. He lifted his head slowly.

"Looks like another tough night. Your new neighbor seems to give you not just a headache but a migraine. Anything we can do?"

Steve sat up straight and blinked several times. He felt worn out and was dead tired.

"How come …?"

"Duke," Keiko interrupted him, "how is your neighbor?"

"I … I don't know." Steve looked past Lou to get a glimpse of the clock that was mounted above the entrance to the waiting area.

"We came here about … two hours ago?" Steve frowned. "Wow, I must have fallen asleep."

"Keiko can bring you home; I’ll hold the fort down and keep you updated," Lou suggested.

Steve shook his head, "I'm not leaving, not before I've talked to a doctor."

"Okay, then why don't you bring us up to speed?" Keiko sat down next to Steve, while Lou preferred to stand.

+++++

Steve finished his update and like on cue the doctor showed up.

"Commander McGarrett?"

"Yes, that is me."

"Mr. Williams suffered some cuts and a nasty concussion which was the reason for his unconsciousness. The cuts aren't life threatening. He just needed some stitches. However, we'll keep him here for the next twenty-four hours until he stabilizes and to make sure there are no ramifications from his ordeal tonight."

Steve blew out a breath of relief, "Can I talk to him?"

The doctor nodded, "Sure, he's already asking for you."

Steve bit his lower lip and followed the man in the green scrubs.

+++++

At three in the morning, Kane was taking a shower when his phone rang. He turned off the water, shook himself like a dog, and slung a towel around his waist.

It was Lou's caller ID.

"I hope it is an emergency," he said half smiling.

"We need you at Queen's Hospital, ASAP," Lou stated dryly.

Kane swallowed, "What happened? Who got hurt?"

"A friend of Steve's, a former cop from Jersey. You’ll get the details as soon as you're here." Lou ended the call.

Kane put the cell back on the table and went over to the bedroom to get dressed. His husband Michael sat at the edge of the bed and eyed him up.

"Seems this is one of those nights where you can't find sleep. Anything I can do for you?"

Kane shook his head, "Sorry, babe. I didn't mean to wake you. I just got a call from Lou. They need me."

He put on a pair of jeans and a black V-neck shirt, then gave himself a quick once over in the mirror while he tied up his long hair. Michael showed up behind him and grabbed his husband's firm ass cheeks.

"I hope you know that someone is waiting for you who needs you more than anyone else." He gently bit Kane's earlobe.

"I never considered you such a greedy little bastard." He replied, turned around, gave Michael a peck on the cheek and then left.

"And that's it? Seriously? Solomon Kane, you can't do that to me," he hollered out.

"I just did it." The door fell shut. A smile curled Michael's lips, this was so typical Kane, always playing hard to get and that was one of the reasons he fell in love with this guy, three years ago.

+++++

"Hey, my guardian angel," Danny said barely audible and gave his savior a weak smile.

Steve took Danny's hand and squeezed it gently, "My new neighbor turns out to be a damsel in distress who keeps me from sleeping for the second night in a row."

Danny winced when he tried to shift his body. Steve helped him. "Are you in pain? Shall I call a nurse?"

Danny shook his head, "No, I'm fine." He grimaced once more.

"Aren't you on pain relievers?" Steve asked.

"Nope. I’ve been clean for a few months now, and I am not going to start all over because of some cuts and bruises," Danny explained and closed his eyes.

"You know that this is bull. Relying on meds to help you heal doesn't make you an addict."

"That's what I told myself every time I've upped the dose of my medication," Danny's voice sounded embittered.

"Can I ask you some questions about the attack?" Steve changed the topic because he was starting to feel uncomfortable. Talking to Danny about personal stuff was like walking through a mine field. So far, he'd died a thousand deaths.

"Sure, go ahead. Alas, I don't think I can be of great help. It was dark, and the guy was huge. I felt like I went into full body contact with a freight train." Danny swallowed. When he opened his eyes, they were filled with tears. "Thank you, Steve. I heard the nurses talk. If it weren't for you, I would be lying on a steel table in the basement right now. What the hell is wrong with me? How could I think…"

Steve shushed Danny, "Don't go there. You were fighting for your life. This was not about you having a silly death wish. This was about you or him. From what I saw you put up a hell of a fight."

"I know, but if Aunt Millicent were my neighbor instead of you, this wouldn't have ended well for me."

Steve frowned, "Who is Aunt Millicent?"

"She always tried to convince me to go to church and practice a peaceful life. She probably would've talked the guy to death." Danny started to laugh but not for long. Every inch of his body hurt like hell.

"I prefer my gun and let it do the talking if necessary," Steve smirked.

"You are my angel with a shotgun … see, I can talk shit without being under the influence of any drug."

Steve gave him a warm smile, their eyes locked. Both felt the attraction for each other, and they were about to unleash something that was so powerful that it scared the crap out of both of them.

McGarrett cleared his throat, "Okay, was there anything familiar about the guy. The way he moved, or his voice, or his scent?"

Danny shook his head once more, "No, sorry. The only thing I remember is the muzzle that exploded in front of my face with a deafening sound, and the guy's hands that threw me around like a rag doll. I can't even remember how I managed to make him drop his gun. Do you know who he was? I mean, did you get a positive ID?"

"Nah, sorry. We are working on it. For me, the guy looked and acted like a pro. Someone ordered a hit on you for whatever reason. Danny, are you digging up mud? Are you still investigating your family's murder? This would probably be your only chance to come clean with me if you are."

The look on Danny's face spoke volumes; he felt hurt and betrayed.

"You really think this is related to what happened to Rachel and the kids? And you think I'm causing it because I won't give up on them? Fuck you, Steve. I gave up on them a long time ago, like I gave up on me. Do you think it was my master plan to destroy what was left of my life? How in the world would this help anyone? As a cop, it should have been my duty to put my feelings aside, do a proper investigation, and bring whoever did this to justice, though I think I would have put the bastard to rest by myself. And now do me a favor and leave. I'm thankful for what you've done, but I think I don't need your help any longer."

Danny closed his eyes to show Steve that their conversation was over.

Awesome, Steve should leave the talking to someone else. He was behaving like a bull in a china shop. This was leading him nowhere.

When he returned to the waiting area his team was already waiting for him.

"Hey Steve, how is he? Could he give you more details on the intruder?" Lou wanted to know and then added, "I thought it would be a good idea to have an eye on Williams. That's why I called Kane."

He greeted Steve with a nod. "From what Lou told me, someone must have a real crush on your neighbor. I always have my troubles with the clingy ones."

"Thanks for coming. Unfortunately, Danny couldn’t give me more details. From my point of view, someone ordered a hit on him. We have to find out who and why. Keiko, do you think you can hack into Jersey PD and get all the info on the Williams's murder case?"

Keiko gave him a smug grin in return, "Compared to hacking the Pentagon this is going to be a walk in the park. So, yes boss, your wish is my command."

"Steve, I don't like that. We should also use the official channels, just to keep our face." Lou said.

"I know what you mean, and usually I would be with you, but not in this case. We don't know who's playing dirty, and I don't want to wake sleeping dogs. We will do that when we have more intel."

Steve turned his attention to Kane, "The hospital is providing us with a list of IDs. Only those who are on the list have access to Danny's room."

"Copy that," Kane replied.

Steve's cell chirped.

"McGarrett."

"Hi, it's me, Duke. We have a problem in a warehouse on Kalakaua Avenue. We found a body charred beyond recognition, and my gut instinct tells me that this might be related to the shooting at your neighbor's house."


End file.
